Shades of Cool
by Cheachea
Summary: She didn't think much would come of of her night out with Santana, but a chance meeting with the singer of a little-known-band would eventually change everything. CollegeStudent!Rachel and Punk!Puck.
1. Chapter 1

_Shades of Cool_

The first time she sees him is at a little dive bar just off campus. He's up on a makeshift stage in the back corner playing the guitar and singing with this raw intensity that _she totally understands_ because it's the same way that she sings. There are a few guys up on stage with him; some gargantuan on the drums, a curly haired guy with fuzzy eyebrows playing another guitar and some blond guy with the largest mouth she has ever seen on bass. There is a tore up sheet hung up behind them with the words "Young Blood" spray painted across it. She assumes that is the name of the band.

_I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones. Enough to make my systems blow._

If it wasn't for his voice she would probably be totally put off by the mohawk and his abundance of tattoos and piercings. And while she has to admit that she doesn't typically listen to this type of music she finds herself captivated by him and his voice and the way he seems to be staring at her, singling her out of the crowd.

The song ends and suddenly she realizes that she has lost track of her rowdy roommate that dragged her here in the first place. She looks around the crowd but cant find her anywhere and her first thought is that when she was five and got separated from her daddies at a theme park she just sat down in the middle of a busy walkway and waited for them to find her. She doesn't want to sit on the floor here and risk getting squashed by the moshing mob, but she figures the principal of staying put will work, so she just stands there and watches the rest of the bands set and waits for the girl to find her.

Three songs and one encore later Santana finds her watching the guy pack his guitar away.

"Rachel, what the fuck? I thought you were going to be my wingwoman tonight, not drool over some punk douchebag." She complains. "I hate it when this dick is here. He makes it harder to find questioning girls when their all fawning over him. And it isn't like he'll give any of them the time of day."

"He comes here often?" Rachel asks her, not really paying attention to the rest of her friends mini rant.

"Did you listen to anything I just said? Forget him Rach, he's a total prick. Not worth your time at all." Rachel hears what the girl is saying, she really is, her brain just isn't comprehending it.

"Do you know what his name is?" She asks and Santana sighs exasperated.

"He goes by some lame ass nickname. It's, like, Puck or what the fuck ever." Santana waves her hand as if shaking off the stupidity of his douchebaggy nickname.

"Puck? Like the fairy?" Santana has a good laugh at that.

"Oh my god, yes. That is exactly why they call him Puck. He's a fairy Rach." She laughs some more and Rachel even laughs a bit too, even if Santana is kind of making fun of her and her love of classic literature.

"Who the fuck are you calling a fairy?"

Her first thought is that his voice is beautiful even when he is talking. Her second is that she is going to have to turn around and face this beautiful sounding, slightly pissed off man and try not to make an utter fool of her self. It's not an easy feat.

"Um, not you. Obviously…" Rachel starts as she turns around and takes him in up close for the first time. "You're very… manly…" she trails off awkwardly as she obviously checks him out. She can see that he has tattoos all across his chest, down his arms and up his neck. He has stretchers in his ear that are big enough for her to stick her finger through, an eyebrow piercing and a nipple piercing that stands out against his thin shirt. When she finally makes eye contact with him she sees that he has these brilliant green eyes and then she notices the smirk on his face. She was totally caught checking him out.

"Yeah?" He asks, cocky. "You like what you see?" Rachel huffs at his question.

"It doesn't matter what I think. You obviously have a very high opinion of yourself."

Puck laughs. "You got that right baby. I mean, what's not to like?"

"For starters, your name. Then there is your cockiness. And your smirk, I don't appreciate it." Rachel says, listing the reasons while ticking off her fingers.

"You don't like my name? It isn't like people pick their own names. That's no reason not to like me." He was right, but she couldn't let him win lest she see that maddening smirk again.

"I doubt your parents named you Puck."

"What if they did?"

Rachel took a moment to ponder his quick comeback. "Well, then that was very unfortunate and I'm sorry."

Santana was watching their exchange slightly amused but more so annoyed.

"You don't really believe him, do you? He's totally messing with you."

"No I'm not. It's my name." Puck tried to argue but after Santana fixed her angry glair on him he backtracked. "Well, its part of my name."

"Alright, what is your name? You're _real _one this time." Rachel asked him only a little peeved at being messed with. She couldn't stay angry with him when he smiled at her like he was right at that moment.

"Nuh-uh. You first babe."

"Don't call me 'babe'. And I asked first, so it is customary for you to _answer_ first."

Puck was amused by this short little lady with the loud and indignant voice. In fact, he hadn't been this amused by anything in a long time.

"If you want me to stop calling you that you gotta tell me your name, _babe_." That smirk was going to drive her insane, she was sure of it. She could tell that he very much enjoyed riling her up.

"Rachel. My name is Rachel Berry." She huffed out, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Nice to meet you, Rachel Berry." Puck said as he turned to walk away, guitar case in hand.

"Wait! You didn't tell me your name!" Rachel shouted at his retreating figure.

"Catch you on the flip side _babe_." He said as he continued walking away, leaving a fuming Rachel and bored Santana in his wake.

**A/N so hey, writer of "Halloween" here (I know, I need to update that eventually. It's just such a depressing story). Anybody want some more punk!puck? I have a few ideas already for this. I saw one of those punk edits of Mark Salling and got all kinds of feels. So I put my music on shuffle and started writing. The song Puck was singing is Radioactive by Imagine Dragons (but who doesn't know that?) Anyways, let me know if y'all want more of this.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: I'm a Mess_

The second time she sees him is at a hole in the wall coffee shop.

It was almost two months after Rachel met Puck and she had almost completely forgot about him and his smirk.

Except not really.

She thought about him often and had even dragged Santana back to that dive bar in an attempt to see him again, but all her efforts were for naught. Santana didn't understand why she wanted to seem him again – especially considering anytime Rachel brought Puck up in conversation she only seemed to complain about him. Rachel told herself she just wanted to find out what his actual name was after he so rudely denied her the information. It was only fair, since he knew her name.

She had just been hired at this little hipster café that held a sort of open mic night once a week and while she was busy artfully crafting a late she herd it; that voice that she thought so often about. It sounded different, though that could have just been because there were no noisy drums or feedback-heavy guitars backing him. No, it was just him and an acoustic guitar.

As soon as she finished with the late she turned around to confirm her suspicions and there he was, Puck in all his tattooed glory. His voice captivated her and she listened to the lyrics of the song he was singing.

_Oh, I'm a mess right now. Inside out, searching for a sweet surrender but this is not the end._

There was a clipboard that held a paper that everyone who wanted to go up on stage had to sign before they were allowed to go on, and Rachel knew this was her chance. She collected the clipboard and searched through the names. She had remembered five acts going up before Puck so she found the sixth name on the list.

It read _N. Puckerman _in a messy scrawl that was closer to chicken scratch than actual human writing.

"Kurt, I'm taking my fifteen now!" She called out to her coworker before she hung up her apron and took a seat off in the corner to watch this N. Puckerman sing his heart out about being a mess.

_I messed up this time, late last night drinking to suppress devotion with fingers intertwined. I can't shake this feeling now. We're going through the motions, hoping you'd stop._

She closed her eyes and let the music transport her mind. She couldn't believe the way that this man made her feel with his music. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about it touched her heart. Maybe it was the honest lyrics that felt as if he was telling her a secret he had never told anyone else. Or it could have been his husky voice that reminded her of a warm fire on a cold winter morning.

Whatever it was she wanted more of it.

_See the flames inside my eyes, it burns so bright I wanna feel your love. No, easy baby, maybe I'm a liar but for tonight I wanna fall in love._

Rachel was completely lost in his words. He made her feel like maybe she could fall in love. Not with him of course, but with his music. Obviously.

After the song was over wrapped up his set.

"So this is going to be my last song tonight, It's called 'Breathe Me'." He said as he started playing his guitar.

_Help, I have done it again. I have been here so many times before. Hurt myself again today and the worst par is there's no one else to blame._

Rachel's eyes snapped open after the first verse. He couldn't be serious, could he? He was so vulnerable up on that stage, talking about hurting himself. What happened to the cocky singer of the punk band Young Blood? He seemed to be a million miles away from the man she saw in front of her now. He just seemed so… broken.

_Be my friend, hold me, wrap me up, un fold me. I am small and needy. Warm me up and breathe me…_

His cry for help seemed so obvious to her now, even as he was smirking that smirk of his and thanking the audience of coffee shop patrons for lending their ear. As he turned around to pack up his guitar Rachel mustered up all her courage, left her spot lurking in the corner of the shop and approached him.

"That was a great set Mr. Puckerman."

He continued putting his stuff away as he answered, not bothering to see who he was talking to. "Thanks, but its Puck. Mr. Puckerman was my jackass of a father."

"I thought we already went over this? You're names not Puck."

That got his attention and he finally looked up, his smirk firmly in place. She felt a little uncomfortable as he looked her up and down. It was hard to feel attractive when you were in an unflattering work uniform on top of already having self esteem issues. But she hid it behind a smile of her own as he finally dragged his eyes up to her face.

"Rachel Berry. You work here or something?" He asked lazily.

"Yes. Now, I think it is only fair that you tell me your actual name since you know mine already and rudely left before you gave me yours." She said, placing a hand on her hip. He chuckled and shook his head at her antics.

"How about this babe, you give me your number and I'll tell you my name."

"Why do you want my number?" She asked, confused.

"Um, so I can contact you? Isn't that why people typically ask for someone's number?" He replied sarcastically.

"Why would you want to contact me?"

"Fuck babe, you are totally messing up my game." He laughed at her cluelessness.

"Game? Wait, are you trying to hit on me?"

"Yeah, but you're fucking it up. Can you just give me your number?" He asked exasperatedly as he stood up and slung his guitar case over his shoulder.

"Santana told me not to get involved with you…" She mumbled nervously, contemplating what harm him having her number could possibly cause.

"Your friend from the bar?" He questioned. At her nod he continued. "Well, if you didn't want to get involved with me, why did you come talk to me? You could have easily let me walk out of here without ever knowing you were here." He paused for a moment, letting her think it over. "You know what I think? You want me, but you don't know how to go after what you want. So you use your friend as an excuse."

"That is not true. I am perfectly capable of going after the things that I want." She said indignantly, her face flushing.

"Then prove it. Give me your number."

"Who said I wanted you?" She asked smugly, thinking that she had managed to one up him, but her smile faded when she saw him smirking at her.

"Well, you want my name at least, right? So, give me your number."

She hated him. It was official. She couldn't stand him, with his smug smirks and all too correct come backs. She hated that she felt like she would loose no matter what she did. If she gave him her number, he won and could possibly not end up telling her his name. But if she didn't there was no way he would tell her his name and he would still win. So she decided to bite the bullet and just go for it.

"Fine, give me your phone." He reached into the back pocket of his dark jeans and handed her his beat up iPhone 4. She ignored the perpetually smug look on his face as she created a new contact and entered her number. "There" she said as she handed the phone back to him.

"Thanks babe" he said as he pocketed the phone and walked away.

"Hey! You said you would tell me your name!" She hollered after him as he walked out the door, leaving the café behind.

"Rachel, your break is over." Kurt called out from behind the counter. As she was putting her apron back on she felt her phone vibrate and decided to check it discreetly. She had a text from an unknown number and when she opened it, it read two simple words.

_It's Noah._

**A/N so here is a little bit more so you can get a slightly better idea of where this is heading. Honestly I haven't edited or even reread any of what I've written for chapter one or two. I just wrote it and posted it as soon as it was done. I figured, why not? Might as well post while I'm struck by my muse and feel like writing. So anyways, review! Let me know if you like it and want to see more or if you hate it or whatever. **


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Girls_

**Babe u busy tonite? Cum to my show.**

Rachel wakes up to this text from Noah a few days after she gave him her number. They've been texting back and forth a little since then, but no substantial conversation.

***Rachel (not babe), *are you, *tonight, *come. **

She texts him back, then immediately follows after with:

**What time? I get off work at 8pm.**

Rachel abhors it when people use "texting shorthand" when sending her messages, and she refuses to use any of it whatsoever. Besides, its not like they have one of those old phones where you have to press the same button multiple times to get the letter you want so there is no excuse in her honest opinion.

After waiting a moment for a text that doesn't come she decides to get out of bed and start her day. She lives in a small dorm room on campus of OSU with Santana (it is much to small of a space to safely share with the other girl, but that is a topic for another day). OSU was supposed to just be her safety net because she was obviously meant for New York City, Broadway specifically. But life, as she recently has learned, does not often turn out how one imagines it will. So instead she is stuck in Ohio. As she finishes getting ready and is about to head out to her first class of the morning she stops to check her phone one last time, smiling when she sees that Noah has replied to her text.

**prfect sho starts 830 txt me when ur on ur way**

She is about to text him back about his terrible texting skills and that he should not just assume that she is coming to the show because she could still very easily say no (that's a lie because she know that she cant say no) when she gets a second text.

**That was on purpose, don't send me an angry correction text. I do know how to type like an adult, I just choose not to. See you tonight babe.**

Rachel can't stop the laugh that bubbles up inside of her. This man is going to drive her crazy – and enjoy doing it – she can already tell.

When she walks into the bar that night she is a little late and Young Blood's set has already started. They can't be anymore than halfway through their first song though because it's only a few minutes past eight thirty.

_Oh dig my shallow grave, it's not me you'll save. Cause I'm a lost cause. I'm a lost cause. A lost, lost cause._

The more she pays attention to the lyrics she hears him sing the more she starts to think that Noah has some serious demons. Rachel has always been a curious (nosey) person and really wants to know what happened to Noah that would cause him to write these words.

Tonight the band is playing in the basement of a hipster coffee house that is similar to the one that she works at, but the crowd seems to have more rowdy punk kids than too-cool hipsters. There is way too much pushing going on for Rachel to be anywhere near comfortable being near the stage so she decides to just find a nice wall to stand against and enjoy Noah's wonderful vocals and colorful lyrics a safe distance away from the chaos. All too soon the first song is over and after Noah takes a swig of water he's stepping back up to his mic and talking to the audience.

"How's everybody doing tonight? Good?" He looks cocky, but when she hears his public yelling out to him she thinks that it may be justified. "Great. So this next song, I wrote it a few years ago but y'all seem to like it well enough. It's about all those _girls._ You know the type; young, naïve, heartbreakers that think they know everything. But they don't, cause they're _just girls_."

The crowd goes wild as he starts talking about the song, no doubt recognizing what song it is and when the first few notes sound out she's a little confused because it almost sounds _pop_, but she rolls with it, enjoying how into it everyone in the room is.

_Cause they're just girls, breaking hearts. Eyes bright, uptight, just girls. But she can't be what you need if she's seventeen. They're just girls. They're just girls._

The basement is small enough that even though she is against the furthest wall she can still see the sweat that is running down his face and for a moment she thinks _I want to lick it off of him_ then she realizes how gross that is and decides to forget about that thought.

After a few more great songs the band is done with their set and they start to pack up their equipment. Once Noah puts away his guitar he jumps off of the makeshift stage and is totally pounced on by a gaggle of girls. Rachel tells herself she isn't jealous – she has no right to be – but she cant stop the feeling from bubbling up inside of her as she watches all of these girls throw themselves at him. But just as soon as the thought finishes forming in her mind he is excusing himself and making his way over to her, leaving behind some very unhappy admirers.

Rachel melts on the inside when he aims his smile at her.

She plans to ignore that feeling for as long as possible.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up."

"I only missed the first few minutes. Besides, its not like you were lacking females to watch your show…" She trails off, peeved at her self for showing a bit of her jealousy.

"Fuck them." He states, face serious. "You're the only one I wanted here tonight."

"Noah! Be nice! They are your fans." She chastises him, doubting very much that he wants to be known as _that guy, _the one who is a dick to his fans.

"Whatever, I just used this show tonight as an excuse to get you to come see me." As an after thought he throws out "Glad it worked" with that ever present smirk.

Rachel takes a moment to take him in and formulate what to say before she answers him. He isn't dressed up or anything like some bands do when they play. He looks exactly like he has looked every time she has seen him; a tank top and blue jeans. His tattoos are on display – most likely on purpose – and he is still sweating a bit. She has to struggle to keep the thought of licking his neck and the side of his face at bay. He starts talking again before she can remember she was trying to come up with something witty.

"Do you want to go out sometime?"

She is shocked for a moment, but then quickly answers "What makes you think I like you enough to want to do that?" She feels quite smug until he starts talking again.

"Well, for one, you cant keep your eyes off me. I saw you watching me on stage, like you wanted to devour me. I'm totally into that by the way, babe." He smirks at her look of embarrassed outrage. "Plus you came tonight. And you approached me first at the coffee shop."

He is right, but she hates it when she isn't the one who is right. So she decides to make it a little difficult for him, even if just saying _yes _to a date with him honestly wouldn't be all that bad.

"You'll have to work harder than that." She says, throws him her best attempt at a sultry grin and leaves. "Goodnight, Noah."

**A/N so another chapter down… I feel a little ehhhh about this chapter (well, this story all together) I didn't get very much of a response for the first two chapters so idk. Anyways, review! Let me know your thoughts! Also, I forgot to say what the songs used in the last chapter were so here they are: "I'm A Mess" by Ed Sheeran and "Breathe Me" by Sia. And as for this chapter the songs are: "Lost Cause" by Imagine Dragons and "Girls" by The 1975. Hope y'all enjoyed and check out the music! These are some of my favorite songs at the moment.**


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